Wrath of the Forsaken Son

Chapter 2

The Grand Azure Hotel was a palace of glass and gold. Inside the main ballroom, crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling like frozen rain. The air was thick with the scent of expensive lilies and the even more expensive perfume of the city’s elite.

In the center of the room, on a raised marble stage, stood Elara Callaghan.

Five years ago, she had been the most vibrant woman in the city. Now, she looked like a ghost carved from ice. Her white silk dress was beautiful, but her face was pale, and her eyes were hollow. She looked less like a bride and more like a prisoner walking toward a guillotine.

Beside her stood Lord Halloway. He was a man in his fifties with a sharp, pointed beard and eyes that reminded people of a snake. He leaned in close to Elara, his voice a greasy whisper.

"Sign the paper, Elara," Halloway said, pushing a thick fountain pen toward her. "Once you sign this marriage contract, the Callaghan Group’s debt is gone. Your father’s medical bills are paid. All you have to do is be mine."

Elara’s hand trembled. She looked out into the crowd. In the front row, her foster family—the Mercers—were smiling. Silas Mercer was there, his arm in a sling from his encounter with Jian earlier that day. He looked nervous, his eyes darting toward the doors, but his mother, Madam Mercer, whispered something in his ear to calm him. To them, Elara was just a piece of meat being sold to keep their own pockets full.

"I... I can't," Elara whispered.

"You must," Halloway hissed, his grip tightening on her arm. "Look at your father."

In the corner of the stage, Elara’s father sat in a wheelchair, hooked up to a portable oxygen tank. He was unconscious, his breathing shallow.

With a sob, Elara touched the pen to the paper.

BOOM!

The sound was like a bomb going off. The massive mahogany doors at the back of the hall didn't just open—they were blown off their hinges. They flew through the air, smashing into two decorative statues before hitting the floor with a deafening thud.

The music stopped. The laughter died. Every head in the room turned.

Through the dust and the smoke, a man walked in.

He was dressed in rags that were stained with the grey dirt of the Abyss. His hair was a wild mess, and he smelled of cold stone and old blood. Compared to the men in their million-dollar tuxedos, he looked like a monster that had crawled out of the earth.

"Who is that?" a woman shrieked, clutching her pearls.

"A beggar! How did a filthy beggar get past the front gate?"

"Call the police! He’s ruining the ceremony!"

Jian Mercer didn't hear them. His eyes were locked on the stage. He saw Elara. He saw the tears on her cheeks. He saw the predatory hand of Halloway on her arm.

"The wedding is over," Jian’s voice rang out. It wasn't loud, but it carried to every corner of the room like a clap of thunder.

Lord Halloway’s face twisted in rage. "Who are you?"

"I am the husband of the woman you are touching," Jian said. He began to walk down the center aisle. Every step he took left a dusty footprint on the white carpet. "And I am the man who is going to break you."

Silas Mercer stood up, his face turning white as a sheet. "It’s him! It’s Jian! He’s supposed to be in prison!"

Halloway didn't care about names. He looked at his head of security, a giant of a man named Vane. "Vane! Take twelve men. Kill this trash. Do it now!"

Twelve professional guards, all trained in high-level combat, moved at once. They pulled out telescopic batons and swarmed toward Jian. The guests scrambled back, eager to see the "beggar" get crushed.

Jian didn't stop walking. He didn't even raise his fists.

As the first guard swung a baton at his head, Jian’s hand flickered. A flash of silver gleamed in the light.

Pink.

A silver needle vanished into the guard’s shoulder. The man froze instantly. His arm remained raised, his mouth open in a silent scream, his body as stiff as a board.

Jian moved like a shadow. He didn't seem to be running, yet he was everywhere at once. To the guests, it looked like a dance. He wove between the guards, his fingers dancing against their necks, their chests, and their spines.

Pink. Pink. Pink.

In less than ten seconds, the chaos stopped.

Twelve guards were scattered across the floor in bizarre, twisted poses. One was standing on one leg. Another was bent double. Not one of them could move a muscle. They were like statues in a museum of pain, their eyes wide with terror.

Jian reached the foot of the stage. He stepped up, his presence so heavy that Lord Halloway actually stumbled backward.

"You... what did you do to them?" Halloway stammered, his bravado vanishing.

Jian ignored him. He walked straight to the table where the contract lay. He picked up the paper, his dirty fingers staining the expensive parchment. With a slow, deliberate motion, he ripped it in half. Then he ripped it again, and again, until the pieces fell like snow at Elara’s feet.

"Jian?" Elara’s voice was a broken whisper.

Jian looked at her. For the first time, the coldness in his eyes melted. He reached out a hand to touch her face, to tell her that she was safe, that he was back, and that no one would ever hurt her again.

SLAP!

The sound echoed through the silent ballroom. Elara’s hand was shaking. Her face was twisted with a mix of agony and fear.

"Why did you come back?" she sobbed, the tears streaming down her face. "You fool! You stupid, arrogant fool!"

Jian froze, his hand halfway to her cheek. "Elara, I came to save you."

"Save me?" she cried, gesturing to the room full of powerful, angry men. "You just signed your death warrant! Halloway doesn't just have guards—he has the whole city in his pocket! The Mercers will never let you live! If you had stayed away, you could have been free. Now..."

She looked past him, her eyes widening in horror.

"Now, they’ll kill you for this! Look behind you!"

Jian didn't turn. He already felt the cold air. From the VIP balcony above, six red laser dots appeared on Jian’s chest, centering right over his heart.

Lord Halloway began to laugh, a cruel, jagged sound. "You think a few needles make you a king? This is the modern world, boy. And in this world, I have the guns."